DCI Murray
by HedgieX
Summary: Gill is the heart and soul of MIT: she holds things together when they're tough, she mothers her team. When it becomes apparent she's not invincible, though, everyone - even Kevin - wants to support her through her suffering, but will she let them in?
1. Gill

**A/N: I don't own Scott & Bailey. I'm not entirely sure where this story is going yet, but as the title perhaps already told you it's centred around Gill. I love Lesley and Suranne, yeah, but I love Amelia Bullmore so much it's unreal :')**

Gill

"Morn..." The door slammed behind Gill as she trailed off from her usual greeting. Her eyes widened. "...ing."

"Happy birthday, Ma'am," Kevin called from where he was perched on his desk, threading ribbon through the balloons.

Andy and Mitch stood up and carried a parcel across to her together, fighting over who got to hand it to her when they reached the door. She took it silently, struggling with the weight, her lips set in a straight line, her expression unreadable.

"Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you..." Rachel sang, terribly out of tune, carrying a cake towards her boss. It was covered in candles, all glowing brightly, and Kevin flicked off the lights so the cake and Gill's face both shone in the soft glow.

"It's chocolate," Kevin announced excitedly.

"Kevin's aroused by chocolate cake," Mitch explained.

Andy continued, "We've got some sausage rolls in the kitchen too; we'll heat them up for lunch. We even managed to smuggle in some champagne."

"Are you... are you going to blow out the candles, Ma'am, or would you like me to stand here forever?"

Kevin giggled at Rachel's sarcasm, evidently in a good mood. Whether it was about the chocolate cake or not, they'd never know. "Come on, Ma'am, make a wish."

"I..." Gill mumbled.

Rachel sighed, "Oh, come on, ma'am! It's not difficult! Look, you just open your mouth, and breathe out!"

Kevin leant over to demonstrate, and Rachel had to push him back before he caught his tie in the flames. He grinned and wandered back to his balloons, letting some float away up to the ceiling.

"I..."

"Gill?" Janet asked concernedly from the doorway.

"Okay, kids, I don't think she wants the cake," Andy raised his eyebrows, jumping up to grab the balloons and struggling to shove them under one of the desks.

Rachel looked disappointed and blew out the rest of the candles herself, then dumped the cake on the desk and sat down next to Kevin, whispering in his ear. Mitch quickly continued with his work on the computer, watching out of the corner of his eye.

"Okay, I think we should go for a walk," Janet walked in, speaking gently, and took Gill's arm. Her boss kept her head down, but her colleagues could see her shaking. There was silence as Janet helped her out, and then the office exploded with noise.

"Oh my God!" Rachel squealed, "Was she crying?"

"We did all this for her, and she didn't even give a damn? She didn't even say thank you! She didn't even blow out the candles!" Kevin kicked the desk frustratedly.

He looked at Rachel, and they both looked at the cake, and suddenly they were both tearing off chunks of icing and stuffing them into their mouths.

"What are you doing?" Mitch gasped.

Kevin made a groaning sound, his face covered in chocolate. It probably was the cake he'd been excited about. "Eating... mmm... eating the cake, mmm... it's delicious!"

"Don't; it took Janet ages to make that!"

"Well, Gill doesn't want it."

"No, but..." Andy sighed, letting go of the balloons, so that they floated back up to the ceiling again. Pink and blue and yellow shapes, dotted around the room.

Mitch switched the lights back on and took some icing for himself, "It is quite nice, actually."

"Stop it."

"Oh, Andy, we're only mucking around," Rachel sighed, but she stopped eating the cake. She could feel her heart thudding against her ribs, and she realised she didn't feel sick because of the sugar in the icing, but because she was worried about Gill.

"Mmm..." Kevin grumbled, but he wiped his mouth on the back of his shirt sleeve and shoved the cake away.

Andy looked around, "What are we going to do?"

"I don't know. What do you reckon is up with her? Maybe she has a phobia of balloons?" Mitch suggested.

Kevin looked at Rachel again, and they both started laughing nervously. Andy reached for a pair of scissors from his desk and popped the balloons, one by one, making horrendous pops with each movement. It probably sounded like they were carrying out a mass murder in MIT to anyone outside.

Kevin coughed, "Well, this is awkward."

"Yeah," Rachel sighed, "I think I should go and find them. You know, see what's happening."

"Maybe you should leave it," Andy warned.

"Yeah, but... well, Janet might need my support?"

"She might," Mitch sighed.

"Right, I'll go see them, then," Rachel stood up, grabbed her coat and her handbag, ran her finger once more around the rim of the cake, and left the room, wondering what exactly she was going to find when she reached the toilets.

XxXxX

"What's wrong, Gill?" Janet asked, leaning against the sinks. As soon as they'd reached the toilets, Gill had disappeared into a cubicle and locked the door. All Janet could hear now were quiet sniffs. "Gill, you have to talk to me. Come on, it's okay."

"It's not."

"Well, what's happened?"

"I don't know."

"How can you not know?"

Janet heard Gill give a stifled sob behind the wood. She suddenly felt for her so badly. Something was wrong, and she was struggling alone with it – Janet understood that feeling.

"Open the door, Gill, please?"

"I..." she began.

The door to the toilets swung open, and Janet shook her head as she saw Rachel appear in the entrance, not because she was disappointed to see her, but because she knew Gill had been about to open up, and now she wouldn't.

"I just... came down to see... if everything was okay?"

"Yes, of course fine," she knew she sounded sarcastic, and she winced as she saw Rachel's eyes change from concerned and warm to cold and hurt.

"Okay," Rachel snapped back, "I was just asking."

Janet sighed and turned back towards the cubicle, "Gill."

"Leave."

"Gill, it's only Rachel, she..."

"Leave. Both of you," she sounded strangled, as if her tears were choking her, "Out. Now."

"Ma'am?" Rachel stepped forwards, leant against the side of the cubicle, put her head to the door. She could hear her boss sobbing, quietly. The sound made her feel sick. "Gill?"

"Rach, we should..." Janet looked worried.

"Gill, it's okay."

"No, it's not. It's not _fucking_ okay."

"Rachel, come on, she wants to be left alone."

"Okay, it's not okay," Rachel shook off Janet's grip on her arm. She wasn't going to leave, not now. Gill, whether or not anyone noticed, whether anyone cared, had always been there for all of them, and they couldn't leave her alone to suffer now. "But it will be. Things are always okay, eventually."

"Fucking Sherlock."

"You're doing _what_?"

Janet inhaled sharply, expecting Gill to storm out of the cubicle and slap Rachel across the face for her sarcasm and her insensitivity. She was incredibly surprised when she heard a laugh echo from her boss's hideout on the toilet. Well, maybe not a laugh, but something like a sob that definitely held traces of amusement.

The door opened, slowly. Gill's mascara had dribbled down her face, one track slightly longer than the other, like racing snails. Rachel gave her a tentative smile, and she returned it.

"Do you... do you want a coffee or something, Ma'am?" the young DC suggested.

"Yes. Yes, I do," Gill turned on the tap, splashed water over her face, wiped it roughly with a paper towel, "A very, very strong coffee. Make it ten sugars. With whisky. And some of that cake. And a donut – a quadruple chocolate donut."

Rachel took her phone from her pocket.

"What you doing?" Janet asked as Gill fell into her arms. She hugged her; she was surprisingly slight. Like she'd collapse under pressure. Maybe she already had, metaphorically.

"Ringing Kevin."

"Why?"

Rachel gave her a look like she was stupid, "To get him to make the coffee. Andy and Mitch can go out and get the donuts."

This time, Gill definitely laughed into Janet's shoulder.

XxXxX


	2. Run till it hurts

**I can't tell you how many things I've got going at the moment. Still trying to write poetry and failing magnificently. Working on a Waterloo Road fic, with Nikki and Tom together – they have to! :')**

**But I digress, I decided I'd push all that aside and continue this fic, I kind of owe it to everyone who has read and reviewed and alerted and favourited this story so far, it brightens my day so much, THANK YOU!**

**Don't know if I mentioned it last time, but this story is dedicated to MadMaudlinOfBedlam. Again. Because it just is.**

Run till it hurts

**Warning: This chapter is complete and utter drabble.**

_ I want to fly and run till it hurts,_

_ Sleep for a while and speak no words,_

_ In Australia._

"Have you murdered someone, Kevin?"

He turned, his face as guilty as if he had, his eyes wide with the shock of hearing her voice, minus the weakness now, "Ma'am?"

"Indeed. Hello, Andy. Mitch."

"Boss," Andy nodded, with a glance towards Janet. She shrugged, leant against Rachel's shoulder.

What was the world coming to when Sherlock – reputable for his (her?) hopelessness with people perhaps even more than his brilliant intelligence?

What the hell did it matter?

Gill was okay, Rachel was okay, she was okay.

"So have you?"

"What, Ma'am?"

"Murdered someone?"

Kevin looked confused.

"You may recall a conversation we had a few months ago, Kevin, after a certain incident with DC Bailey here, and PNCs, and... well, you may recall it, anyway," she wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, "When I told you I could get away with murdering you all, because I knew how. I suppose the same logic applies to you."

"Ma'am, I... I haven't murdered anyone."

She pointed to her wrist. He looked at her watch for a moment, as though expecting the clock face to tell him the answer to this riddle, but then looked at his own wrists, and realised what she was talking about. "Oh, right, Ma'am. It's chocolate."

"You murdered my chocolate cake?"

"No, Ma'am, we..."

Andy coughed, stepped in to protect his junior, "There was an incident, Ma'am. I'll take full responsibility."

"Oh, Christ, Andy, it's a cake," Janet murmured.

Gill gave him her darkest glare, "Where are my donuts?"

"Well, Ma'am, we were waiting until you came back before I..." Kevin shrugged, standing up, "I'll go get them now."

Her scowl broke into a smile, and it wasn't a smile as though she was laughing at him, but an almost warm smile, "It's okay. I'll cope with the carcass of the cake. I'm watching my weight, you know?"

"Put us all to shame, Ma'am," Mitch chuckled.

She raised her eyebrows. Kevin watched her for a moment, and then he held out his arms and hugged her.

Rachel had to turn away, for fear she might burst out laughing. Or maybe crying, actually. Rachel never knew what would happen with her emotions.

Janet, beside her, stepped forwards with a knife, and it glistened in the light from the falling sun outside. It gave her an odd sensation, to be this close to something that had so nearly killed her.

It gave her an odd sensation to be in the same room as the man who'd whispered I love you as she'd slipped into unconsciousness, though, and she just had to live with that.

"I love you, Ma'am," Kevin grinned as he pulled away from her.

She looked as though she might cry again, "Don't."

"Sorry. I hate you, Ma'am."

"Errm," Andy lifted the half-eaten cake up and handed it across to Rachel, who helped Janet cut it.

The balloons still floated around, and Mitch took one and wrapped the string around his arm, "Nice blowing-up technique, Rachel."

"You don't know how wrong that sounded," she said dryly.

"I have an idea."

Gill took a slice of the cake and sat down at Rachel's desk, tucking in with her fingers, not bothering with the little plastic fork Andy waved in her face, "This is nice, Janet. Thank you."

Janet smiled, because she knew the gratitude stretched a little further than just the cake, "You're welcome."

"Hey, cow," Julie said from the doorway.

"Oh God, not you, pig," Gill murmured, but she stood up and hugged her best friend, and they didn't even need to say anything else. They knew; they always knew.

"Can we go to Australia on a work trip, Ma'am?" Mitch asked casually, spinning the screen of his computer round to show a photograph of a beautiful beach, the waves crashing against the shore, "Please?"

"Nope," Gill sat back down.

Julie sat down too, "Alright, Kevin?"

His eyes widened, "Yes, Ma'am."

"Good."

"This is... mmm..." Gill licked some cream from her fingers, "DCI Dodson. She's my best mate."

"And Kevin's worst enemy," Julie added.

"Pleased to meet you," Andy held out his hand.

"Likewise."

"Yeah, hi," Rachel smirked across the room at Kevin. So many things she'd heard about this woman. She wasn't even_ that_ ugly.

"Hi."

There was a long silence.

"Can someone get us a whisky, please?" Gill kicked off her heels and laid her legs across Julie's, "It's in the cabinet."

"I'll go," Mitch grinned, "If we can go to Australia."

"We're not going to bloody Oz."

"I'll even arrange the flights, if you like," he shrugged and stood up, humming under his breath as he left._ I want to fly and run till it hurts, Sleep for a while and speak no words, In Australia._

Rachel smiled, "Bless him."

"So, Ma'am, you going to tell us what's wrong?" Kevin sat down beside her and dipped his finger in the icing on her cake.

She pushed his hand away, "Nope."

"But..."

"Kevin," Andy and Janet warned at the same time.

"Okay, Ma'am. We will," Kevin paused, "We will respect your wishes. But you do know we're here for you, if you want us, right?"

"Agreed," Julie grinned, taking some cake.

Gill smiled, "Tomorrow. Maybe."

Janet groaned as she glanced around the room, and saw all the happy faces, and then saw Andy's, and realised her own must look the same; miserable, moody. She was turning into him, wasn't she?

Must be the effect of sleeping with a man you knew you shouldn't, when you just couldn't help yourself.

**Don't own Scott&Bailey. Don't own the lyrics either, they're from _Australia _by Manic Street Preachers, due to my renewed obsession with them. I'm rather odd, I know, but it's a good song. So is _This is the Day. _*plots for next chapter***


	3. Mistake

**GOT A SIGNED PHOTO FROM LESLEY SHARP YESTERDAY :')**

**AND THE SERVICE-STATION SCENE WITH RACHEL TALKING ABOUT JANET BEING STABBED AND GILL SAYING SHE'D FORGOTTEN WHAT IT FELT LIKE TO BE ALIVE, I WAS HONESTLY CRYING INTO MY RAINBOW DROPS.**

***takes deep breath* I LOVE AMELIA BULLMORE! SOMEONE SEND ME HER FOR MY BIRTHDAY?**

**Still don't own, still for MadMaudlinOfBedlam.**

**For those of you interested, the first chapter of my Waterloo Road fic is now up, it's called _Bleeding Love_.**

**So I digress, again. Here's the next chapter:**

Mistake

"So, are you going to tell me what's wrong, then, or not? Or what?" Julie asked Gill softly, all traces of joking gone for once, her eyes worried.

They were sitting in Julie's car outside the police station – Gill had stayed at her friend's last night, and Julie had promised to drop her off in the morning.

She needed to pick up some files anyway; the syndicates were working together. That was what she told herself, and told Gill, and told all of her colleagues, and all of Gill's colleagues.

Really, she'd avoided the conversation of what was wrong all night, but now she needed to know.

Gill was silent for a long time, "I..."

"What?"

"I can't, Julie. It's not even... my God, it's just a mistake; it's just something I have to sort out for myself. I shouldn't ever have involved anyone."

Julie nodded, "Anyone?"

"Yeah. Anyone."

"Would you like me to bugger off now, then?"

Gill sighed. Of course she wanted to tell Julie, but where did she even start? Her best friend would hate her, like everyone else did. There was too much history between them, too many things that would hurt if the truth was revealed.

"It's okay," Julie sighed, "I understand. Well no, I don't, but I can try, for you. Just keep your chin up, yeah?"

"Yeah. I'll call you later."

"Right."

Gill grabbed her bag, jumped out of the car and stepped towards the police station. She raised a hand to wave, but Julie didn't even look in her direction again as she drove off.

Was trying to shield people from the truth just making it even worse? Everyone said a problem shared was a problem halved, but was it, when it just revealed more and more problems?

"Morning, Ma'am," Mitch called across the yard.

She raised her hand again.

"You alright?"

She nodded.

He raised an eyebrow, "They want you inside."

XxXxX

"Right. This is, umm, Rose," Gill help up a photograph.

It was a young woman, with blonde hair similar to Janet's, her eyes warm. She looked ill, though, her skin too pale and her face crumpled with pain.

"What's wrong with her?" Kevin asked, spinning his pen around in his fingers, "Who is she?"

"Rose," she repeated, "Rose Johnson. She died last week after a battle with cancer. She left behind... she had a fiancé and a daughter, three years old next month. They'd told her she had maybe a few years left – if she was lucky."

"She wasn't."

"No, she wasn't, Kevin."

"So," Janet frowned at Rachel. The more she saw of Gill at the moment, the more she confused her. The way she was talking about this woman was as if she was nervous.

Maybe Gill had cancer?

The idea made Janet's stomach clench a little inside of her, but she couldn't understand how it could be true. Gill was the bravest person Janet knew – she'd fight it. And why would she be so scared of telling them?

"So," Rachel continued for Janet, who'd disappeared into her daydreaming, "What does she have to do with us?"

"Well, her father Johnny – yeah, Johnny Johnson, very funny, get over yourselves now – was arrested yesterday. He'd murdered her doctor – _it was his fault she died_, in his words. So yes, he's a psycho, but... but, you know, he's devastated."

"Mmm," Andy made some notes.

"So is the fiancé, Kieran Riley. Not entirely sure where he fits in as of yet. Seems pretty damn pissed off at Johnny to be honest – I think you would be, when you've got to explain to your daughter her mummy isn't coming home, and her granddad might be locked up for a while too."

"Where's the daughter?"

"With Rose's sister, Amy. They didn't speak very often, Amy was pretty much estranged from the family, whereas Rose was a daddy's girl, but Kieran seemed to think she was the only person left to look after his daughter, and she's definitely not involved, just very pissed off at her father too, so..."

"Who's interviewing JJ first, then?" Kevin asked.

"Janet," Gill tapped her foot against the desk, "And you, Kevin. Rachel and Mitch will take Kieran. Sure I don't need to remind you all this needs care and discretion; think how you'd feel."

"Yes, Boss," Kevin smiled at Janet. She scowled.

"And me, Ma'am?" Andy asked, scowling at Kevin too.

Gill nodded, "Ah, yes. You're going on a trip – not quite to Australia, but DCI Dodson has something she needs you to pick up, so I'll see you later, yeah?"

"Ma'am, seriously, don't you think..."

"Just go, Andy."

Andy brushed off his jacket and stormed out.

"Ma'am, he's right; isn't that a bit of a waste of..." Mitch trailed off upon seeing her face, "What?"

"His ex-wife has been injured in a car accident," Gill sighed, "When I say injured... I'm not sure they expect her to pull through. And I'm not sure it was an accident, either. Julie's in charge of the case – I couldn't tell him. I don't know how he'll react. God, I just..."

"His ex-wife?"

Gill looked at Janet, "Am I missing something?"

"No, I just... I didn't know..."

"Yeah," she frowned, "Look, you should go with him. He shouldn't face something like this on his own. Go on, run and catch him up – call me later and tell me what's happening."

Janet looked about as keen as Andy had to leave, but agreed and left the room with a half-hearted smile for Rachel.

"Ma'am, what about the interview?" Kevin asked.

"Well, plans have changed," Gill smiled, "It looks like you'll be in with me, Kevin."

Rachel laughed.

XxXxX

**Slightly more action this time, I think ;)**

**The next chapter will be the interviews, and we'll find out what's going on between Andy and Janet and the ex-wife too. It's all kicking off. I just absolutely made this up, by the way; sorry if it makes no sense whatsoever...**

**Please review xx**


	4. Interviews

**Probably a slightly depressing chapter, but at least it's not filled with 'no comment'.**

**Oh yeah, this chapter is for RachelBaileyFTW :')**

"I understand this must be difficult for you, Mr Riley."

"You don't understand anything."

Rachel sighed, "Well, tell me about it, then."

"Why should I?"

Mitch met Rachel's gaze, gave her the silent message to back off a little and let him continue. Yes, she was a nice girl, and a great copper, or she wouldn't be on MIT – Gill would make sure of it. But she could come across as really horrible sometimes; stroppy, and angry. She really did care, but she didn't show it very well.

"Mr Riley," Mitch said, "Can I call you Kieran?"

"Call me what you want."

"Kieran, you do understand you're not being held here, don't you? You can leave whenever you want."

"I should bloody well think so! She was my fiancée – don't you dare even suggest I might've had anything to do with this!"

"I wasn't..." he paused again. Maybe it wasn't Rachel's fault. Grief did funny things to people; they were impossible to work with, sometimes, even when they had gentle personalities normally. "You can go and get a coffee now, if you like."

He shook his head.

"Okay, well, Kieran. Can we start again, from the beginning?"

"There is no beginning. She's dead – there's only an end."

Mitch nodded slowly, tapped his fingers against his file, "As DC Bailey said, this is really difficult for you, but we want to sort this out for Rose, okay? And for your daughter, so she can remember her mum without any of this clouding it. Is that what you want too?"

"That's the problem," Kieran glanced up and met Rachel's gaze. His eyes were filled with tears. He talked to her, rather than to Mitch; maybe he was embarrassed to look at another man while he cried, or maybe Rachel's briskness helped him.

There was no point trying to hide it, or make it seem easier – his fiancée was dead. There was never going to be a marriage now; their little baby was going to grow up without a mum, and without a granddad.

"What is, Kieran?" Rachel asked gently.

"Everyone... it's on the news, all of this stuff. About what happened. About Johnny killing the doctor. And I just... they're just forgetting about Rose, and about everything else. It's supposed to be about _her_ – we're supposed to be remembering _her_. All people care about is the murder now; she's just nothing."

"That's not true. We care about Rose. She wouldn't have wanted a murder, would she? We know that her dad was very upset and angry, and they think he might have had psychological issues, but she wouldn't have wanted this. So you need to tell us the truth, about what happened, and we can sort it all out for her, and let you and your daughter grieve properly."

Kieran nodded.

"Okay?"

"Yeah."

"So, what happened? You rang Mr Johnson to tell him Rose had deteriorated and he needed to meet you at the hospital, yes? She died before he got there, so he was very upset? What happened after that, Kieran, before the murder?"

He shook his head, "I didn't see him. He didn't answer my calls. I was just... just trying to arrange the funeral, tell everyone. I was trying to look after my daughter – I didn't care... about what he... was doing any more."

Rachel reached out to touch his shoulder. He pushed her away, tears dribbling down his cheeks and dripping off onto his knee. He buried his head in his hands.

Mitch stood up, "Okay, interview suspended, thirteen twenty-two. I think we need a break."

XxXxX

"Mr Johnson," Gill said softly – as softly as Gill could say anything – her eyes searching his face, "We understand that you're very upset about the death of your daughter, but we also have to remember that you murdered a man yesterday. An innocent man."

"That man was not innocent," he growled.

"Quentin Davies was an innocent man, Mr Johnson. He was a man who dedicated his life to helping save people, and to helping look after people. It wasn't his fault your daughter died – he was just one of a team of people making her final days easier. He did not deserve to be killed; can you see that?"

"It was his fault she died."

"Mr Johnson. Can I call you Johnny? Or JJ?" Kevin asked. Gill looked at him, angry, but he wasn't joking. He was just angry too – angry at the injustice of the world. She wondered if he should've been put on this case; and then she wondered if she should be at work at all either. They were great partners, weren't they?

"Mr Johnson," Gill said.

"Okay. Mr Johnson," Kevin agreed, not looking at her, "Think about how upset you are at your daughter's death. Cancer is a terrible thing; we all know that. But imagine the pain Mr Davies' family are going through now – he wasn't killed by a disease, but murdered. Can you imagine how terrible that must be for them?"

"I didn't want to hurt them. I wanted to hurt him."

"Do you not feel any remorse? Don't you see what you've done?"

"I did what I had to do, for Rose. It was his fault she died," he was almost spitting in Kevin's face, his eyes glowing, "I'm just avenging her death; I needed revenge, for her."

The trouble was, Kevin actually believed him. This man truly thought he'd done what was right for his daughter; he was blinded by grief, but it had gone too far.

Gill continued, "That man – Mr Davies – had a daughter – she was five. Can you imagine what Mr Davies' wife is going to say to their daughter? She's going to have to explain about the angels, isn't she? How hard is that going to be for her, growing up without a dad?"

"Do you have a daughter, Miss?"

"I have a son. Sammy."

He tossed his head towards Kevin, "You don't?"

"No."

"Rose had a daughter. She was called Lucy."

"She still is called Lucy," Kevin said slowly, "And she's your granddaughter. Only she's going to be left without a granddad now too, isn't she?"

"She has Kieran."

"Yes, she has Kieran. But don't you think he's going to be grieving? He's going to have to explain about the angels, but he's also going to have to explain about the big black bars that grandpa's behind as well, isn't she?"

Johnny shrugged a shoulder.

Kevin looked at Gill, and wondered how she could be so calm, "How do you think he's going to feel, dealing with his fiancé's death, and having you cloud her memory by murdering the man who tried to save her life?"

"I always said she was too good for him."

Kevin stood up and walked out.

Gill didn't even looked ruffled by that. She just reached out a hand and pressed the _stop_ button on the tape recorder, then gathered up her files and pushed her chair out. "Interview suspended, at sixteen twenty-nine. Can you make sure Mr Johnson has a drink before he goes back to his cell, please?"

And then she left too.

XxXxX


	5. Down in the dumps

**My lovely little brother just came downstairs when I was writing this – 1st April, obviously – and went "They just said on the radio the blonde one off (his poor grammar, not mine) Scott&Bailey had a baby." Me: "Really? Isn't she a bit old?" Him: "April fool!" Me: "Hm."**

** Seriously? This is the kind of creative atmosphere I have to contend with? Is it any wonder my stories are terrible?**

"Why didn't you tell me, Andy?"

"I don't know."

"How can you not know?"

"I. Don't. Know. Okay?"

Janet looked at him silently over the top of her glasses, like she might look at Elise if her daughter was misbehaving. Her blue eyes were worried, scared. "Okay."

They both turned back to the window. A woman lay in the bed, a sheet draped up over her chest, her eyes closed and her hair ruffled around her. She was in her late forties, Janet thought silently, but she looked good for it – smooth skin, natural mousey hair.

"I'm sorry," Andy sighed, "I'm sorry."

"It's okay."

"No, it's not."

She was wired up to several drips. A doctor stood on one side of her, and a nurse on the other, one taking notes and the other examining her. They both looked serious, deep in concentration, like they might on _Casualty _when they were in Resuscitation. God, why was she thinking about _Casualty_? Could that be any more inappropriate?

"Are you alright?" she asked him.

"Yeah," he angled his body further away from her, so she couldn't see his face. She suspected he was crying; was he scared of her seeing, scared of being seen upset? Was that cowardly? Or was he just totally confused? Did he still love her, his ex-wife? Why had they got divorced?

Questions, Janet. Stop with the bloody questions.

"There's no other secrets, before you..." he sniffed, "Before you ask. No children. I wished there was – she did too – but, you know? These things don't work out sometimes. It was the reason... no, it wasn't _the_ reason, it was _one_ of the reasons we got divorced."

"She couldn't have kids?"

"_I_ couldn't have kids."

"Oh, I'm sorry," she said, trying to ignore the pictures flying around her head. They didn't think about adoption? Or a donor? It wasn't even any of her business, was it?

"It was difficult," he continued, like he could read her mind, "We were young when we married – it was a long time ago. We were... I don't know, I was naïve. Maybe we just grew up and grew apart."

"She doesn't... you're still her next of kin?"

"She doesn't have anyone else."

"Oh."

The doctor slipped off his gloves and left the room. Andy pounced on him, "How is she? What's going to happen now?"

"Mr..."

"Andy," he held out his hand and shook the doctor's, somewhat impatiently.

"Well, Andy. Your... she... Emily has serious head injuries. I'm... I'm sorry; I understand this must be very difficult for you."

Janet had said those words so many times herself, to victims: _I understand this is difficult for you_. They sounded so patronising, when they were spoken to you. "He... we just want to know the truth. What's going to happen?"

"Okay. Even if... even if she does wake up, which we're not sure about at the moment, she may have serious brain damage. We're talking worst-case scenario here, but you want to be prepared. She might not be able to speak or move if she wakes up, and it could be a long road to recovery, if there's a road at all. I'm sorry."

"Okay. Thanks," Andy mumbled.

"If you need anything, I'll be at the desk over there."

"Thanks."

Andy sat down, and Janet followed his lead. He leant his head back against the wall, and this time he didn't attempt to hide his tears.

"Like he said, it's worst-case scenario. She'll probably be fine."

Andy wiped his face carelessly with the back of his hand, "Yeah."

"Andy..."

"It's okay, Janet," he half-smiled, "I don't... I don't love her any more, not like that. We haven't spoken for a long time – she's in my past. I just... I just don't want her to be in pain; to be suffering. I know what it's like to be on your own, and I don't want her to feel like she's got no-one to support her."

"You're not on your own."

"No. I know. Thanks for... for coming."

Janet smiled weakly. He looked like he was about to say something more, but her phone rang in her pocket, and when she dragged it out the screen flashed up with the name _Gill_. She stood up, "Sorry, I'll have to take it. Hi, Gill."

"How is he?"

She paused, "You know."

"Yeah, I know."

Janet indicated the door to Andy and he nodded. She stepped outside, where it was cooler and more private, "He's upset, obviously. The doctor's prognosis doesn't sound too good; I think he was basically saying she's brain dead, in gentler terms."

"Oh," Gill muttered.

"He says he doesn't love her any more – I think it was a long time ago. But you know, when the past comes up, and it's really hard? He's the only person she's got, basically, and he doesn't want her to be on her own."

"Mm," she agreed quietly, "I'm sure he's appreciative that he's not on his own – he's got you with him. Make sure he knows he has our support, won't you?"

"Yes, of course."

With Gill, one moment she was in reflective, gentle mode; the next she was brisk, having switched straight back into focusing on work. It was just her coping mechanism – she couldn't get too involved, or she'd get dragged down in everyone's problems, and from what Janet knew she had her own worries to deal with right now.

"Not got very far with Riley or Johnson."

"Oh?"

"Mm. Everyone's a bit down in the dumps," Gill sighed, "Riley's devastated, as you would be; Johnson's showing no remorse, saying the doctor deserved it, saying Riley wasn't good enough for Rose anyway."

"Greater good, hey?"

"It seems that way."

A doctor walked past Janet, carrying a pile of papers and wearing a frustrated expression. He smiled as he passed her, and his tired eyes lit up for a second. Everyone here was so tired, so busy trying to save lives that they forgot about their own.

"Are you alright, then, Gill? After, you know, everything?"

"Well, Kevin ate the rest of my cake, so I was a bit pissed off about that, but I think he kind of needed it, to be honest – he's taken the whole case a lot more to heart than the rest of us. I'd like you to speak with him tomorrow; he's... well, I'll explain when I see you."

"Right."

"Good."

"Yeah, good."

Gill sighed, "Go home and get some rest. Get Andy to do the same."

Janet made a mental note to insure Andy didn't murder a doctor. She was tired, like the doctors. She just wanted to go home and sleep. Oh, shit.

"Shit," she said aloud, "I was supposed to be out with Aid tonight. Shit."

"Oops," Gill was evidently checking the time, "It's only eight. I'm sure it'll be fine – just blame me, if you like. Godzilla, all that. I'm not deaf or daft."

"That was Rachel, the Godzilla thing..."

"Yeah, right. I'll see you tomorrow."  
>"Night, Gill."<p>

"Night."

Janet slipped her phone back into her pocket. Inside the door, Andy had crept in to be at Emily's side, and had removed her hand from beneath the covers and clasped her fingers in his.

XxXxX


	6. Nappies

**Thanks for the reviews.**

**_ScottAndBailyFanx_ – I'm sorry if there were typos, I'm normally particularly picky with spelling, I was trying to finish the chapter quickly before I went on holiday. The spell-check on my computer always corrects grandad to granddad.**

"Morning."

Rachel turned round and grinned at Kevin as she queued for her coffee in the canteen. He sat at a table in the corner, alone, picking at a bacon sandwich. The ketchup splattered across the table could've been blood.

She moved across the room and sank down opposite him. He didn't look up from the murder-of-the-breakfast scene, so she kicked him under the table.

"Hey," he snapped.

"Alright, chill," she took a sip of her coffee, and wished she hadn't. It burned her throat. "What's up with you?"

"Nothing."

"Kev? What's wrong?"

He met her gaze and saw the genuine concern in her eyes. He shrugged and shoved his bacon sandwich across the table towards her. "Just tired. Neighbours having a disco or something."

"Right."

He smiled, "You don't believe me, do you? Fucking clever bitch. How can you tell someone is lying? You know, Gill's always like, _well, why are you in MIT if you can't tell if someone is lying?_ And she uses that voice, like _Kevin_."

"Yeah, she does that with me too. _Rachel_. _Sherlock_."

"But at least she likes you. She does that affectionate thing."

"Gill, affectionate?" Rachel smirked.

He just shook his head, "She hates me."

"Come on, Kev, stop moaning. This isn't like you – normally you accept your social standing in life, and in work," she laughed again, but he didn't, so she sighed, "Tell me. What's happened?"

"It's nothing... nothing different. Just... some people. I can't understand how they can be so inhumane, and so cruel, and..."

"Whoa."

"What?"

"Just... God, what _has _got into you? This whole doctor-murder case thing; it's really got to you, hasn't it? You were interviewing JJ, weren't you? Was it really bad?"

"I don't know. I just... he's just so cold. He doesn't even regret what he did – he says the doctor deserved it because he took Rose's life, and he says Riley wasn't good enough for his daughter anyway, when he's basically wrecked the man's life all over again. And the daughter, Lucy – he talked about her like she was dead, like she didn't even matter any more."

"Well, you know they think there are psychological problems."

"Yeah, but..."

Rachel shook her head, "Weren't you in with Gill for that one? When Janet went off with Andy?"

"Yeah. How _is_ Andy?"

"Okay. She's not improved, not worsened yet. They think... they're still not sure if she'll ever wake up, or ever recover even if she does. I think it's complicated."

"Poor Andy."

"Mmhm."

Kevin took his bacon sandwich back, biting into it. He seemed to have trouble chewing, like his brain wasn't linked to his mouth.

Rachel watched him over the top of her coffee cup nervously, because she knew Gill had asked Janet to talk to Kevin, and she'd offered to do it instead because Janet wasn't really very focused this morning, but now she almost wished she hadn't, because she didn't know what to do.

And that was maybe a slight overuse of _because_.

"So what's Gill done to upset you?"

"She was just... going on about angels and stuff, and about how Lucy's not going to have a mum or a granddad any more."

"Yeah, it's an interview. You do that – you try and make them feel guilty? She's right – you're not very used to MIT yet, are you?" she smiled weakly.

"But she's just so cold, isn't she? Doesn't she feel, like, any feelings? She just says all this stuff so calmly, and she listens to him so calmly, and I just wanted to strangle him the entire time."

"We both know Gill gets angry sometimes."

"Yeah, but at pointless stuff."

Rachel didn't feel like the conversation was going anywhere, "She was upset, about the birthday thing. That wasn't really about pointless stuff, was it?"

"Well, it might've been," Kevin rolled his eyes, "We don't know what it was about, with all her secrecy. She probably just forgot to put the bins out or something."

"Don't, Kev."

"What, do you know what was wrong with her?"

"No, but..." she tried to meet his gaze, but he was staring at the bacon sandwich, smirking.

"Well, then.Seriously, it was a bit stupid, wasn't it? We did all that party stuff, and she just started crying – she didn't even say thank you. And all for the bins. _Oh, no, the nappies will decompose_."

"It wasn't about nappies," Gill said quietly from behind them, "I agree it was stupid, and I apologise if I didn't seem grateful, because I was, but it wasn't about nappies."

"Ma'am. Boss," the colour drained from Kevin's cheeks, "I didn't mean... I didn't know..."

"Are you okay, Gill?" Rachel stood up.

Normally, Gill would start shouting at Kevin, in a half-hearted manner, or perhaps just give them a glare whilst seeming amused, but now she leant on a chair silently.

"Yes."

"You don't look it."

"Don't I?"

Rachel pulled out a chair, and Gill sat down on it. She took Rachel's coffee cup and drank the remainder. She slipped off her glasses, folded them and lay them on the table, then put her head in her hands and sat there.

Kevin mouthed desperately at Rachel, but she'd never been able to lip-read. She wished she could, sometimes. She remembered one of her teachers from high school had been able to lip-read; that had caused her some trouble, but she'd always admired it. She didn't have enough patience for something like that.

"I'm sorry, Ma'am," Kevin said quietly.

It struck Rachel that he did sound truly apologetic. He'd only been mocking Gill to draw the attention away from his own problems; he didn't honestly hate her, just found her an enigma. They all did.

"You know, Kevin," Gill said through her hands, her voice muffled, "I told Rachel, about him– I knew he was sleeping with someone else when Sammy was four, and I just ignored it the entire time, because I loved him, and I suffered for a decade because I was a coward, and Sammy suffered too. When I was putting nappies in the bin, my husband was shagging someone else. So you're right, in a way, aren't you?"

XxXxX

**To be continued... shortly-ish...**

**All I'm saying is that I think _RachelBaileyFTW_ should be a police officer, considering her deduction skills earlier on in the story, and what's going to happen next, or maybe my plots are just see-through... xD**


	7. Coward

**SL08 RZC. Classic. Sorry I haven't updated in a while, I got kind of distracted by Waterloo Road...**

**How creepy is Jeff? I absolutely loved the interview scenes. Andy was being 'an absolute pig' too, and Gill was absolutely amazing as usual. My mum went "aww, I wish everyone had a boss like her", I was like yesss ;)**

Chapter Seven:

_ When I was putting nappies in the bin, my husband was shagging someone else. So you're right, in a way, aren't you?_

Kevin looked startled, "I don't..."

"And you know, Dave and... and_ her_? They're moving to Australia, and they did the whole _oh, by the way, Gill, we're moving to Australia _thing, like they were popping out to the shops or something, not like it's going to change everything."

"So... so what's going to happen to Sammy?" Rachel asked.

"I don't know. He's going to go with them. That also happened to be the time he told me I was a shit mum, and I'd ruined his life, and he'd be much happier with his dad and his new mum on the other side of the world, where he never had to see me again."

"No, I'm sure he didn't mean that, he just..."

"Sun, sand, surfing. Peroxide blonde, beautiful, rich young girls for him to get off with. And Dave'll probably go for it too, actually – _she_ will get a taste of her own medicine, I guess."

"I'm sorry, Gill," Rachel said gently.

"I haven't finished."

"Oh, okay."

Gill raised her head, and a droplet fell from her eye and rolled down her cheek, smudging mascara over her face. Rachel reached out to touch her hand, but she pulled it away.

"All of this – all of the Australia shit, and then the crap mum shit – all of it was at the meal I'd arranged with these people, to try and have an adult conversation," she said, "Because I needed to talk to them about something."

"What?" Kevin prompted.

"I... look, there's no point being a coward any more – everyone's going to find out tomorrow anyway; it'll be stuck on posters down all the bloody corridors, probably. I've got cancer."

"Oh. Oh my God, I'm sorry," Rachel whispered. Gill shook her head, and another tear fell. This time she didn't move when Rachel wrapped her arms around her and hugged her.

"That's what I was expecting from them. You know? I hate them, I hate _her_, I hate what Dave did to my family. But I thought... I thought they might support me, because, you know... because I was naïve."

"That's not naïve," Kevin said fiercely.

"Yes, it is."

"You... so did you tell them?"

"No. They went off happily to pack their bikinis, and now I'm going to go through all the hospital shit on my own, so yeah, it's not perfect, because I thought at least Sammy would be there for me, and Dave would probably help out, but..." she shrugged a shoulder, "Whatever. It doesn't matter."

"You have to tell them."

"No, I don't."

Kevin frowned, "Ma'am, you..."

"So I was upset about the birthday thing, okay? I'm sorry if I didn't seem grateful, Kevin," she stood up again, ignoring Rachel's attempt to get her to stay, "But I was. I was just... it doesn't matter. It'll be fine. I'll see you upstairs in ten minutes."

As she left the room, wiping her eyes, Kevin and Rachel sat silently at the table, horrified, watching her go. She hummed under her breath.

_ I want to fly and run till it hurts,_

_ Sleep for a while and speak no words,_

_ In Australia._

XxXxX

"Morning, DCI Dodson speaking."

"Hi, I'm DC Janet Scott, from MIT?"

"Oh, Janet," Julie's tone softened considerably from professional to friendly, "Gill's friend, right? Yeah, I remember you well. She talks about you. The garden incident for her birthday – good night, that, wasn't it?"

"It was," Janet smiled at the memory, but it was a bittersweet smile, because her heart was thudding against her chest too, her mascara threatening to run down her cheeks with the tears forming in her eyes, "Yeah. It was."

"What can I do for you, Janet? Is Gill on the warpath again? Wants some results from me, no doubt?"

"No, no. Actually, it's not about work."

"Oh, okay," Julie said quietly, "What's happened? Is Gill alright?"

Janet paused. How did she respond to that question? She doubted even Gill had a clue about the answer. "Not really, no."

"What's wrong with her? I rang her yesterday, she ignored me. I just presumed she was busy – she's always busy that woman, she's always working herself into the ground. She was really funny with me, after the crying incident, but I thought I was just being paranoid."

"Yeah," Janet wiped her eyes with the back of her free hand, "But you weren't. It's not... look, she wouldn't talk to me either. I've only found out from Rachel and Kevin, who are other colleagues – normally, Rachel and Gill don't get on particularly well, but... well, I don't think she wants to talk to the people who she's the closest to, because it'll hurt more."

"She's told me lots about Rachel and Kevin too," Julie seemed to ignore the rest of Janet's speech, focusing on the first part, "Sherlock, she calls Rachel. I think they've been close, recently – I'm not sure, but Gill talks about her as though... I don't know. I think she likes to look after her; she knows she's talented, a great copper, and she wants to make sure she treasures her gift. She just shows it oddly."

"Yeah," Janet said again. She hadn't realised Rachel and Gill were closer, hadn't noticed them talking at all. Gill had seemed to hate Rachel before. Life changed.

"What... what's happened, then?"

"I don't think I can really tell you. It's not my job; it's something she needs to talk to you about. I just wanted you to know."

"Janet," Julie demanded, "Tell me, now."

"It's not..."

"Janet."

"She had some family issues – stuff about Dave; she couldn't rely on him when she needed his support the most. And Sammy's upset her too. But..." Janet sighed, "But she's got cancer."

"Shit."

"I know."

"_Shit._"

"She... we had a briefing, right after she'd told Rachel and Kevin. She was pretty much normal; I wouldn't really have known any different. Then we went down to the canteen, and they told me, and when we came back up she was sitting at her desk with her head in her hands. It's just... God, she's so... I thought she was the one who'd always be there, no matter what happened."

"Did you... have you spoken to her?"

"Not yet. Rachel took her a coffee, and you could hear her scream across the other side of the station: _get out._ I'll go and see her now, but I don't think she'll want to talk to me."

"Right. Yeah."

"Are you alright?"

"Mmhm. I'm coming," Julie told her. Janet could hear her footsteps in the background, as though she was already running for her car. She could hear her sniffing too. "Shit. Don't let her leave until I get there."

"I won't."

"Yeah."

"Thanks, Janet."

Janet swallowed her tears, "See you in a few minutes."

XxXxX


	8. If you die

**Sorry I haven't updated in a while :(**

**Wow, Scott&Bailey was amazing yesterday, can't believe Amelia Bullmore wrote that, I am so completely in awe of how talented she is! Janet and Andy – I was like awww; the Sammy scene – "No, mum; I want to be like you," was adorable! How exciting does next week look?**

"I am fine. How many more times do I have to say it?"

"Well, you're obviously not fine, are you? You've got cancer."

Gill glanced about her furiously, as though frightened someone had heard. Kevin and Rachel sat at a computer a couple of metres away, eyes glued to the screen, whilst Janet sat on one side of her desk, and Julie on the other in the office.

They all knew anyway, these people. Without any family, these were the only ones she had left to make sure she was okay. And she did love them; she felt an attachment to them like she'd never felt to anyone else. She didn't care about many people – she'd been hurt too deeply – but she cared about her officers.

"I know I've got bleeding cancer. You do not need to keep reminding me – believe me, it hasn't left my mind."

"Well, it obviously has, if you've decided you're fine."

"Can you two stop screaming?" Janet asked.

They both turned on her, snapping, "No."

There was a long silence; all three women melted the ice setting between them by laughing. From laughter, for Gill, came tears, and she buried her head in her hands and cried again.

Janet hadn't seen Gill cry before, not properly. She'd seen her with damp eyes when she was angry, and with damp eyes when she was upset, but the tears had never fallen – she'd always stopped them, or run off to somewhere more private.

"It's okay, Gill," Janet reached out a hand and squeezed her shoulder gently.

Her words were muffled through her fingers. She clenched one of her hands into a fist. "It's not fucking okay. Ask Julie."

"Ah, but _you_ being fine and _it_ being okay are entirely different things," Julie said, "_You're_ not fine, obviously, and there's no point denying that. But why can't _it_ be okay, generally? You've got all of us to look after you. Kevin might even bring you a colouring book for when you're in hospital, if you're lucky. What more could you want?"

"To be okay?" she whispered.

"Except that?"

Gill just shook her head. For once in her life, she really, really wished Julie would shut up. Normally, she adored her best friend, wanted to be with her all of the time, loved her chatter and her sarcasm and the way the fun they had balanced out all of the crap they both had to deal with at work.

Right now, though, she didn't want cheering up. She wanted to talk about it, and she wanted to let out all of her worries, and she didn't want people to make light of the situation, or pretend things were fine when they weren't. She didn't want that today. She was sick of the lies now.

"Have you talked to Sammy or Dave?"

"No," she shook her head at Janet.

"Don't you think you..."

"No."

"Well, I'm sure..."

"_No_."

Janet nodded.

Gill took her phone from her pocket, unlocked it and handed it to Janet, "Look at the last text from _him_."

"_We'll be leaving on Monday_," she read, "_If you want to see Sam before we go, text me back, but he doesn't seem too keen on it himself, probably due to what you called him the last time you met_."

"Oh God; what did you say to him?" Julie groaned.

"_Otherwise, we'll be back in two months to pick up the remainder of our belongings – we might see you then. Good luck Gill. Dave. Kiss._"

"Kiss? Bloody hell. Cheeky bastard."

"Thanks for the commentary," Gill told Julie sharply. Julie blinked; she was only trying to help. She just wasn't great at this stuff – she was so used to being detached. Gill sighed. "Since when has he been called Sam, anyway?"

"Since Dave tried to upset you," Janet said.

"I mean, he's my son. Arguing doesn't... it doesn't break that kind of bond, does it? He wouldn't just leave without saying goodbye? I... He loves me; I brought him up, when _he_ was shagging half of Manchester – I looked after him, I made his tea, I helped him revise?"

"Of course he loves you. I'm sure he'll ring you soon – he'll want to see you before he goes."

"Not if _he_ has anything to do with it."

"Gill..."

"Gill what? Stop saying my name like I'm a kid. I don't need to be lectured, and I don't need to be pitied."

Julie fell silent.

Janet glanced across at Rachel, who gave her a questioning look. She wrinkled her nose. Maybe her younger colleague should be the one doing this; Gill seemed to have confided in her a lot recently, seemed to be letting her in when she was locking everyone else out.

God, was she jealous of Rachel? She was confused; she didn't understand what was going through Gill's head. Maybe she'd be wishing she was in Kevin's shoes next; that really would be something to worry about.

"Look, imagine this, Gill, for a moment," Janet began.

"Stop procrastinating and cut to the chase."

"Okay. Well, imagine Dave is being an arse – which actually doesn't take any imagination at all, does it? Maybe Sammy wants to see you, but he's confused, and maybe he's angry at you for what you said last time you spoke to him, or maybe he's scared about leaving everything here and going to Australia? Imagine he doesn't call."

"Right..."

"And imagine he goes away to the other side of the world, and he's homesick, and his dad's out on the beach shagging all the bikini-clad bimbos, and he's got nobody to talk to, and he wishes he was at home, and he's still not talking to you."

"Mmhm."

Janet was trying to soften this conversation. All that was really happening was that she was saying _and _far too often. "Meanwhile, you're here, and you're miserable, and your family aren't here to support you, and..."

"I've got the picture."

"Gill, what if you die, and Sammy doesn't even know you have cancer?" Julie snapped, "It won't matter for you, because you'll be dead, and dumped in a grave somewhere, but he'll get a phone call from the police, and his entire world will fall apart. How is he going to feel? Don't you care?"

"Of course I care."

"Well, talk to him, then. Before he goes."

"It's not as easy as that, is it?"

"Why not?"

Gill just buried her head in her hands again. The room fell silent, aside from the clicks as Kevin typed an email with one finger. Rachel was texting, her thumbs moving furiously in comparison to Kevin's. Janet picked up a newspaper from the desk, Julie played with her hair.

Nobody could think for the tension; nobody could carry on with their tasks. They just sat there, pretending. Waiting for Gill to speak, and tell them that yes, she'd ring Sammy, and she'd sort things out with Dave. Waiting for everything to be okay.

Mitch strolled into the room, cracking their moods into splinters, completely oblivious as he sang. "_I want to fly and run till it hurts, sleep for a while and speak no words, in Australia."_

"Mitch?" Gill raised her head.

"Yeah, boss?"

"Can you do me a favour?"

"What, boss?"

"Shut the fuck up."

XxXxX

**Everyone should read _MadMaudlinOfBedlam_ and _RachelBaileyFTW_'s stories. I love you all so much for sticking with me and reading this. And I love reviews too *hint, hint* ;') xxx**


	9. Mountain

**MY SIGNED PHOTO FROM AMELIA BULLMORE CAME YESTERDAY. And she drew a kiss at the end of her name. And she has handwriting exactly like my old head teacher's. *gets down on knees and worships***

** Thought it was about time I did another chapter. Wrote the whole thing this morning, not really sure if it's any good, or what is going on, but that's the fun of fanfiction;')**

Gill walked along a road.

The road wound its way steadily upwards, through the city of Manchester, the place she was so familiar with: the bends in the road, the traffic lights that never had a long enough hold.

She passed the police station. Saw Kevin's face pressed against the window pane in the door. He waved. She looked away.

At the outskirts of town, she crossed a river. Water lapped up the sides of the bridge, cooling her bare ankles – for she wore three-quarter length trousers today, and a vest top, and sandals – and glistening in the sun.

She climbed up through the woods, and across the countryside, heading for a mountain in the distance, never letting her gaze fall short of the target. It never seemed to get closer, the mountain, although she skipped through fields of corn, and splashed through puddles. Every time she blinked, her view of the world became murkier.

"Mum," someone called, over and over again, whispering in her ear, and she knew it was Sammy, but she couldn't find him. "Mum. Mum."

She lay down in the field and slept for a while. She didn't know how long she was oblivious to her surroundings, or what her still body had dreamt of, but when she woke the sky was dark.

She couldn't see more than a few steps in front of her any longer, let alone the mountain. The droplets of water on her feet that hadn't quite dried had frozen now, and she shivered. The grass was smothered in dew, a light drizzle falling down on her.

It was only a mountain; it didn't matter. She could come back tomorrow, if she really wanted to, couldn't she? Somehow, her decision to turn away from the challenge, to retreat when she was so close yet so far away, felt like the hardest decision of her life.

She kicked off her shoes. As a child, she'd always run around barefoot, run across to the swing in her back garden, chocolaty plaits swinging against her shoulders. She'd loved the feeling of the grass between her toes. Now, it felt cold, harsh, threatening.

She returned through the trees, stumbling over roots, falling and grazing her knees several times. Blood running down her leg. Ripping strips from the bottom of her t-shirt, wrapping them around the cuts.

She'd revealed her stomach now. The skin was scarred. Once upon a time, as that child, she'd been thin, maybe too thin. Her mum's voice echoing in her head beside Sammy's pleas of _Mum, Mum, Mummy_; her mum saying _you really should eat more, Gill. Have you had your lunch today? Why don't you have some chocolate?_

She was still thin now, she supposed. She just had nobody to care any more; unless you counted Kevin offering her donuts, or Rachel dumping out-of-date Aero yogurts in her bin, she didn't suppose anyone cared about how much she ate or didn't eat. She was supposed to be an adult. She was supposed to be able to look after herself.

She'd eaten far too much chocolate in her childhood. Parents didn't know everything – she knew that from her experiences of Sammy. It was just that she'd been the kind of child blessed with putting on no weight, staying slim, staying healthy and happy.

Oh, how your lies caught up with you in the end.

When she reached the town again, people were lining the streets. Cheering her on, because she was limping now, her feet torn to shreds. Throwing water bottles at her, waving banners – _You can do it! Come on!_

She recognised them all, when she looked harder. People she'd known from school; her best friend, called Jess, who'd died in a car accident when they were both sixteen.

Jess's mum, thinking she was being kind, thinking it would help Gill to come to terms with her grief, and also thinking she would never be able to bear reading them, had given her daughter's diaries to Gill. The main thing that had come out was Jess sleeping with Gill's boyfriend. At which point Gill had got pissed, taken her empty beer bottles and smashed them over Jess's grave.

"I'm sorry," Jess was whispering in her ear.

Teachers, people who'd influenced her life, made her who she was today. Some guests from her wedding. She looked down, and she realised she was now wearing her wedding dress, a traditional sleeveless laced number. She'd felt beautiful that day. It was smeared with scarlet blood now.

When she passed the police station again, Kevin was lying dead on the ground, the blood-stained knife beside him. Rachel was crouched by his head, stroking back his hair, her tears falling down onto his cheeks. Andy, screaming for an ambulance, screaming at her to help them. "Ma'am. _Ma'am._"

She didn't stop. When she finally reached the house, her home, the door was locked, boarded up. Dave stood in front of her, by the gate, underneath the roses and the ivy. He was cradling a squealing baby, and Gill ran up to take the child, but Dave held the bundle aloft, out of her reach.

He'd always been stronger than her, Dave. Always that little bit stronger. Always the one who made the decisions for them both, when it wasn't what she wanted. Not just strength, but power: that was what it had been. She'd fallen in love with him, and the bastard had fallen in love with the power of knowing she'd do absolutely anything for him.

She realised what all of the people were doing now, lining the streets. They were passing building blocks along, like magnified Lego bricks. Acting as though they were passing buckets of water along to a fire, holding the bricks marked with 'A' and 'B' and 'C' carefully, treasuring them.

With every block that reached Dave, Sammy grew. Until his father could no longer hold the toddler, until the child had transformed into a teen, and then a young adult. And when he reached his father's height, he disappeared, his last murmur of _Mum _fading into nothingness.

She screamed for him, but he was gone. Like so many other things in her life, so many opportunities, gone. Emotions, good and bad, forgotten, pushed under the carpet, murky like the water still on her feet.

Dave grinned, "You really fucked things up this time, didn't you, babe?"

Janet stepped forwards out of the shadows, and suddenly Gill realised that the crowds weren't cheering for her, and that the _you can do it _wasn't for her but for her team: everyone wanted her gone from their lives. They finally knew it was the end and they were ecstatic.

"Please, don't," she said.

"Sorry, Gill," Janet said, and she handcuffed her boss, and her friend, and she pushed her away, and she dropped the key down the drain.

And then she turned and kissed Dave, and suddenly Dave was holding another child, but this one he shared with Janet, and they both cradled the child. And Janet wasn't weaker than him; they were the same, and they loved each other.

And Janet and Dave had abandoned her, just as Jess had abandoned her, and Kevin was dead, just as everything else she'd ever lived for was dead, and Sammy had disappeared, just as all hope of happiness had disappeared. And she had nothing.

XxXxX

Gill Murray woke up sobbing, her head throbbing, pounding her damp pillow with blood and sweat-drenched hands.

XxXxX


	10. Sending flowers

**I got a letter from Nick Gleaves yesterday. He's lovely – he said he hadn't got a photo to send to me but he hoped that a note would do instead... and I got a kiss as well, aww ;')**

**Just to warn you, I think this is going to be the second last chapter. I'll probably continue with the _Mum_ story when I get the chance, but life is really quite hectic at the moment, with exams and dramas at school (who needs TV when you've got real life, huh?) and all kinds of things, so...**

"What did he say, Sammy?"

"Mum..."

She lifted herself onto one elbow, met his gaze directly, so that he had no chance to look away. Gave him a weak smile. "What did he say?"

"He said... he said he'd send flowers. For the... for the..."

"Funeral?"

"Yeah. He said it would be inappropriate if he came, but if I wanted he would pay for one of those flower things that spells out _mum_."

Gill reached out and took her son's hand, hearing his voice break. Her own eyes were watering, and that wasn't just the pain she was in, but the idea that her son was suffering so much.

"You know the ones..." Sammy looked down at the floor, "The ones they put in the coffin?"

"Yeah. I know."

"And he said I could go and live with them."

"Oh," she gave him a weak smile. She was too tired to be angry at Dave any more for what he'd done to her, but she'd never be too tired to be angry at him for what he'd done to their son. Broken his own flesh-and-blood's heart. "What did you say?"

"I said..."

"It's okay, Sammy."

He returned the smile, just a shadow flickering across his face. His fingers were shaking against his mother's. "I said something a bit rude."

"That's my son."

"Can I stay here? In your house? Once you're..."

Gill didn't fill in his words for him this time. He needed to get his head around the idea that she wasn't going to be here for him any more; there was no point pretending. She just squeezed his hand.

"Once you're gone."

"Yes. Of course you can."

"Because if I'm not going to university..."

"Sammy," she murmured, and he trailed off and met her gaze again. "It's your life, okay? You can do whatever you want to do, as long as you're happy. Well, within reason."

He gave a strangled snort, half-crying, half-laughing. He'd been trying to avoid this conversation for a while now; they both had, really. He didn't want to have to say goodbye to the woman who'd brought him up, looked after him through everything. They'd argued sometimes, but she'd always loved him so much, and he adored her.

"If you don't want to go to uni, you don't need to. It'll save you some money, certainly," she smiled again, lying back down, shuffling to get comfortably against the thin hospital mattress, "You don't need to do what you think I'll want you to do – as long as you're happy..."

He nodded. He couldn't say what he wanted to say: _how can I ever be happy without you here? _He had to be brave, like his mum was being brave. He could cry afterwards, when she was... when she was gone.

"If you want to go and live with your father, you go and live with your father – that's fine. You'll have an amazing time in Australia."

"No. I told him I didn't want to talk to him ever again."

"I seem to remember you said something similar to me a few months ago. And God, I'm so glad you changed your mind."

His face crumbled again.

"Sammy," she whispered, "Sammy, it's going to be okay."

_ How can it ever be okay?_ "Yeah. I know, Mum."

She ran a hand through her hair subconsciously. She always liked to look perfect; her heels co-ordinated with her handbag, her skirts ironed so thoroughly there wasn't a single millimetre crease. This felt so wrong, being in a hospital, surrounded by death and doom, surrounded by mess and imperfection.

Such horrible, penetrating sadness everywhere.

"Sammy, I know I haven't always been there for you."

"You have, Mum. You've been amazing."

She smiled again, and the smile made everything ache, "Sammy, I hardly ever say this, and I know it seems like I was so busy with work, but I love you so much. I would have given up everything for you."

"You did. You gave up that... that police job, where you had to travel around everywhere. You did that for me."

"Yeah. I did."

She was going to die soon. She knew that: she'd accepted that. But it just wasn't fair, was it? On her family, on her friends. Her syndicate – what the hell were they going to do? Well, she knew Julie was taking her job, actually; she'd work well with Janet and Rachel. But Kevin... oh, poor Kevin.

Everything was going to go on around her, everything was going to be replaced. And people would be sad, but gradually they'd build their worlds back up without her there, and the pain would fade, and they'd forget. And all the courage in the world couldn't save her from that.

"Hi, can I..." Janet appeared in the doorway, looking apprehensive, "I brought you a sandwich, Sammy. A growing boy needs to eat, doesn't he, Gill? And I brought you a coffee too, just..."

"Thank you," he said.

She nodded, realised they didn't need babbling right now. She sat down next to Sammy, took Gill's other hand. She was going to take care of Sammy, after Gill left him, in an unofficial capacity. Taisie and Elise had always looked up to him like a big brother, and he was a sweet boy; Janet loved him.

Things were going to be okay; they all had to keep believing that.

Gill whispered to her son, "You'll always be my baby boy, you know that?"

Sammy leant over and wrapped his arms around her, breathed in the warmth of her skin, felt her heart thudding against his. He sobbed into her hair, and she held him tight with the last of her strength.

"I want to be... I want to be like you, Mum. I'm g-going to be like y-you, and I'm going to make you proud... p-proud of me."

"I'm proud of you now, Sammy. I always have been. I always will be."

XxXxX


	11. Jerusalem

**So, the first part of the final chapter. It was originally the end, but there was so much to conclude it ended up being too long for a single chapter. Typical ;)**

"Gill was the leader of the MIT department at her police station," the vicar was saying, in the slow monotonic drone he'd used throughout the service so far, "And she was a very good leader. Her colleagues thrived with her support and guidance."

"MIT _department_?" Rachel whispered scornfully, "Doesn't he get how stupid that sounds? Didn't he even bother to find out what MIT stood for?"

Janet hushed her with a shake of her blonde ponytail.

"...and we all know she will be very dearly missed," he continued.

Rachel wasn't listening any more. She forced back the urge to jump up and give him a shove head-first into the font. She knew that Gill would've hated this, all the moping around. She leant forward, squinted in the multi-coloured glow of the stained glass falling on the coffin. _Gill Anne Murray. _Anne was a pretty name, wasn't it?

"And now Sammy is going to say a few words about his mum."

The church was absolutely packed. The entire station seemed to have turned out, some in uniform, some in suits and dresses, all bowing their heads respectfully. So many people she didn't know, too. Family (although nobody from Dave's side, as far as she was aware – what an absolute arse) and friends and neighbours of Gill's. Strangers to Rachel, random people who could've stepped in from the street, mourning her boss. She suddenly felt sick.

"Go on," Janet urged the boy gently, "It'll be okay."

He stood up. Janet recognised the wobble as he negotiated the church aisle, the sensation that your legs were blocks of wood, that everything inside you was dead. His eyes brimmed with tears, but when he spoke his voice was steady. Janet felt a surge of emotion wash over her.

"Mum travelled around a lot when I was little. She worked on all these cases all over the country, solving murders. Sometimes, I didn't see her all week, and even if I did, she got in late from the office, and had to go out early, so we didn't spend a lot of time together."

Sammy laced his hands together in front of him. Met Janet's gaze. She couldn't smile reassuringly, because if she moved her lips she'd only sob, but he seemed to find courage in focusing on her.

"It was hard. For Dad and for me. And sometimes... sometimes, I wondered if she loved her job more than she loved me. But when Mum and Dad got divorced, she gave up her job because I needed her. She would sit and read me stories at night, and then I would curl up in her bed, where Dad used to sleep. And I know she missed working at the crime faculty, and I... I know she missed Dad too."

Janet felt Rachel's arm brush her side as she bent down to pick up her fallen service sheet. Kevin snorted somewhere further along. Janet momentarily wanted to punch him, but she realised how much Gill had adored Kevin for his imperfections. She'd adored them all, underneath.

"But she said as long as she had me, everything would be okay, because I was the most important thing in her world. And my mum never lied, because all she ever did was sort out the mess from other people's lies, and she knew how much it hurt. So I knew she was telling the truth – she loved me."

Janet gulped. _You were her world, darling. She didn't care about her own pain, the selfless bitch, but it broke her heart to see you suffering. And it's breaking mine now. Why is the world so cruel?_

"I realised I didn't want to go to university a few months ago, before... before I found out my mum was ill. And at first she was upset, because she knew I'd worked really hard to get good grades after she'd pestered me for half my life about revising..."

This was met with fond, knowing smiles from the audience. Gill had pestered them for half their lives about paperwork that needed doing, or about not leaving the office fridge in a mess, or about them paying for the round in the pub for a change. And they were going to miss it so much.

"She loved her job so much. She liked chasing after the baddies, like she was in a movie, and she liked catching the people who'd done such terrible things. She even liked the paperwork. But what she loved most was... was her colleagues. She never shut up, really. How Rachel had solved the case like Sherlock. How Janet was always there for her. How Kevin had finally worked out how to use the phone."

Kevin snorted again. A tearful snort.

"And I want to be like her. I want to work for the police, and I want to be in charge of my own syndicate one day, like my mum. She showed me... she showed everyone that she could do both – she could be a good mum, and she could be a good copper too."

The church was absolutely silent, hanging on his every word. He was struggling to hold himself together, his sentences broken up with gulps and sniffs, but still he carried on.

"And she showed me that it's worth fighting for something you love, because one day you might win. And even if... even if you don't, then you've... then at least you've tried, and maybe you're... maybe you're a better person than you were before."

The first time Janet had met Gill had been when Joshua had died. Those words still sounded wrong in her head: _Joshua had died. _Like juxtaposition, such a lively, happy little boy, lying so still. She'd never see his little blue eyes flutter again, never hear the chuckle that infected whoever was nearby.

Gill, so calm and reassuring, promising her everything was going to be okay. Explaining again and again to her and Adrian what had happened, and what was going to happen now.

Her pen flew across her clipboard as she asked them questions in her clipped tone; everything about her radiated professionalism. She was someone who knew what she was doing, someone whose hands they were safe in. That was the only consolation on that terrible, terrible night.

"Thank you, Sammy," the vicar said. His voice softer than before.

Janet felt the pew tremble as the boy sat down beside her again. His shoulders were shaking. She reached out a hand and laid it on his knee. "She was so proud of you."

"S-she..." he didn't continue. Unspoken sentences hung in the air, all those things they could have said, but didn't need to. They both knew.

A single tear ran down Janet's cheek. Sammy dug a hand into his pocket and handed her a crumpled tissue; she wiped her eyes.

"We're going to sing a hymn now. Gill liked the hymn _Jerusalem_, so if you'd all like to stand, please, it's number three-hundred and twenty six in the hymn books..."

"At least it's not _Amazing Grace_," Mitch mumbled, somewhere along from them, "Everyone has bloody _Amazing Grace_ nowadays."

Lee nodded, "She was always an enigma, our boss, wasn't she?"

Kevin looked confused for a moment, as the opening chords echoed across the church from the organ, "She told me she was having _All Things Bright and Beautiful_."

Rachel smirked, "God, Kev. Even on her deathbed, she could outwit you, couldn't she? How many funerals have you been to where everyone's started singing about little flowers opening?"

"No," Sammy said quietly, "She liked _All Things Bright and Beautiful_. They sang it at the wedding. When she married Dad."

The music drowned out further conversation, but Janet tucked her arm into Sammy's as they stood up to sing. She'd found Gill in the back garden of their flat, a couple of days after Joshua's death when she'd come round to check up on Janet and Ade, crying.

If Joshua had survived, he would've been over twenty now. Older than Janet and Gill's relationship; he would've been like an older brother to Sammy. Maybe they would've played football or rugby together, and maybe Joshua would've been a copper too, followed in his mother's footsteps. They'd never know now, but the maybes comforted her.

And now she had Sammy to look after. She'd promised Gill, and she didn't intend on breaking that final bond between them after everything. Well, there were other bonds too. _Promise me you'll look after Kev _stuck in her mind. _Promise me you'll put a donut on my grave if you're passing._

The enormity of the situation struck her. The finality; she would never, ever see her again. Never get an affectionate _hiya slap_, or a stroppy _get me a coffee_; there'd be nobody to hold them all together, to mother them, as Gill had.

_I will not cease from mental fight,  
>Nor shall my sword sleep in my hand,<br>Till we have built Jerusalem  
>In England's green and pleasant land.<em>

Sammy's hymnbook dropped with a loud thud to the floor, causing everyone to turn, "I... I loved her."

"I know you did. I know." Janet leant sideways and laid her head on his shoulder. Their eyes met, and Janet was struck with how similar his eyes were to Gill's. Such strength in them, determination, courage. Overflowing with pain. "So did I. Everyone did."

XxXxX

**Hopefully the second part will be slightly more upbeat, and perhaps you'll even smile through your tears. I'll upload it later on in the week.**

**Please review xxx**


	12. Drinking to that

**This really is the end now, I promise.**

**Thank you so much to everyone who has read this story over the past few weeks; I can't express how grateful I am for your lovely feedback.**

**Thanks to the Scott&Bailey team, particularly Amelia Bullmore, because this story simply would not have happened without them.**

**And finally thanks to the Manic Street Preachers, whose song _Australia_ provided – very oddly – quite a lot of inspiration.**

They threw roses down on the coffin. Just the officers from Syndicate Nine – Julie had joined them now, quietly sniffing, her sharp eyes damp – and Sammy; everyone else had hastily retreated, understanding.

Rachel didn't understand why Gill wanted to be buried. She imagined her boss lying cold on a slab in the mortuary, her skin tinged with blue, maggots picking at her flesh. She gulped back nausea.

Kevin sidled up to her. He didn't talk, but his eyes were damp too. She reached down and intertwined her fingers with his. Someone had to carry out Gill's request after all, and look after him. He wasn't so bad, after all, DC Lumb. Gill had shown them all that, and given the rest of them a chance too, no matter their backgrounds or their flaws. They were here now because of her.

Andy dropped a photograph of them all at the Christmas party into the grave. Gill in the centre, slightly tipsy, waving a cocktail glass in the air, surrounded by her team. She'd had flaws too. _It's worth fighting for something you love. _It was worth fighting for some_one_ too.

Their heads bowed, a goodbye.

"What do we do now?" Mitch broke the silence, "Boss?"

Julie shook her head. She wasn't worthy of that title quite yet. Maybe she never would be, or maybe she would, because everything moved on in the end, and the world wouldn't stop for the death of one person, no matter how they'd been adored, how much they'd be missed.

"I... I asked Ma'am that once," Rachel said, "What we should do."

Sammy clutched a single rose petal, "What did she say?"

"She said we could _cry, vomit, resign, sulk,_"she told them, with a cautious glance towards the vicar, "_Get pissed, shag someone _or _watch telly_."

Janet bit her lip. Held Sammy close.

"Well, then," Julie said softly, "Kevin. What do you think?"

His gaze darted to her, as though he was frightened she was going to breathe fire on him. Was holding hands with a girl in a graveyard a bad thing? Or holding hands with a boy, for that matter? Not that he was considering it.

"Everyone's cried enough," Janet said.

Andy shrugged, "My cat was sick this morning, if that counts."

"And you can't resign," Sammy pawed at the ground with his heel, "Because Mum would kill you."

"She did enough sulking when she was alive," Mitch smirked, "Like when we played Twister at the Christmas do, and her tights split."

Lee grinned, "Oh, I'd forgotten that."

"Well, you can't..." the vicar paused, his lips pursed, "you can't _shag someone_."

"No; Kevin's underage," Mitch winked, "Or perhaps he's just saving himself for that _someone special_. Like Rach."

"Cheeky bugger."

"And there's nothing on TV," Sammy shrugged, "There's never anything on TV any more. Just cop shows, and Mum always screamed at the screen then because they were doing their jobs wrong."

Kevin squeezed Rachel's hand, "She quite often screamed at us because we were doing our jobs wrong. Or at _me_, anyway."

"There's only one thing for it, then."

Everyone looked at Julie.

"Let's go to the pub."

Perhaps they were rather an odd procession. Kevin and Rachel leading the way, still holding hands, Rachel slightly unsteady due to a combination of ridiculously high heels and the emotional confusion that came with death.

Andy and Mitch and Lee slightly behind, chatting, reminiscing their favourite moments in the office with Gill.

"The time she fell into the box."

"And when she got out she had the roll of Sellotape stuck to her arse, and she couldn't work out whey we were all laughing at her."

Julie walked alone, slightly dazed, her arms wrapped around herself. Gill had never been one for displaying her affection, but she hadn't really needed to. Like Sammy had said, you knew.

Julie had been given the responsibility of looking after Syndicate Nine now, and the weight on her shoulders felt overwhelming, the combination of grief for her friend and colleague, and fear at moving on. Everyone was scared of new things; Gill had been. But she'd done it anyway, and so would Julie.

Sammy and Janet walked behind. Janet wore her coloured leather gloves, and she remembered that day in the cemetery after one of the cases when she'd told Rachel about everything Gill had gone through with Dave. _A shag bandit. At it with all and sundry. Everyone knew except Gill._ They'd all worn coloured leather gloves that day, standing in a line, the three of them.

There were some bad people in the world, people that Gill had dedicated her entire life to stopping. And then there were people like Dave, who weren't arsonists or murderers or rapists, but maybe they were just as bad.

It was in the Bible somewhere that thinking about murder was as bad as committing the offence. Police obviously didn't live their lives by this, or they'd have been hypocrites – _I want to hurt that bastard, give him a taste of his own medicine, show him what it's like to suffer._

All the same, Dave had made Gill's life a misery. She'd loved him, and when it had come down to it he hadn't been there for her. _If you love something enough, you'll fight for it._

Gill had taught Janet many things. She'd taught her how to be a good copper, how to be a good mother, how to be a good woman. How to be dignified when you wanted to scream, how to know when was the right time to just sit in the toilets and cry.

But overall, she'd taught her that nothing could be stronger than love. If you fought hard enough, the love would always overpower the hate whether you won the battle or not.

Janet remembered the final promise she'd made to Gill. That, as long as she lived, she would never tell anyone about that night in the garden for Gill's fortieth birthday. Too much alcohol, and not enough clothes. Running down the street in her bra, squealing. Oh, everyone lived for the memories in the end.

"You know what, Sammy?"

He leant closer to her, soaking up her warmth, "What?"

"Your mother was the greatest woman in the world. And you know what else? We'll make her proud; all of us. We'll carry on her work, even when it's hard. We'll teach Kevin how to send an email, and how to make a coffee too, perhaps. And one day, you'll be the greatest copper Manchester has even seen, and you'll have done it all because of your mum."

They all brushed off their feet as they entered the pub. When they'd settled down, Julie held up her wine, and a hush fell over them. "To a mother, and a friend, and a colleague. To... to DCI Murray."

Sammy smiled and dropped the final bedraggled rose petal to the floor. It fluttered away, out of the pub door into the breeze, past the traffic lights, past the church, up and up and away. Like his mum. _I love you, Mummy._

The clinking of glasses filled the pub. "DCI Murray."

"The best boss in the world," Kevin added softly. Julie smiled.

Lee grinned and took a handful of nuts, "I'll drink to that."

XxXxX

**Thanks again to everyone who has read _DCI Murray_ – it's certainly been a rollercoaster, and I apologise to those people who kept telling me on Twitter I made them cry, especially DCIGillMurray and ohsotanyaax, who have been so sweet with their feedback throughout the story. Please review and tell me what you thought. And then perhaps go and read _Mum_ ;') xxx**


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